Times Like These
by clarebones
Summary: When Carrie starts working in a Vegas casino, she's just a country girl with no idea what she's getting herself into. Sex, scandal, and secrets run as deep as the mob ties. Is anything as it seems?
1. Chapter 1

"First day?" Carrie looked up from the screen where she was trying, unsuccessfully, to input drink orders. The dark-haired bartender was eyeing her with a knowing grin as she poured shots from a shaker.

"Yes, and I can't figure out this computer thingy," Carrie sighed, pushing randomly on the screen hoping she'd get to the right menu by accident. The bartender came around to stand next to Carrie.

"Here, let me help you," she chuckled, gently pushing Carrie's hands away from the screen. After the push of a few buttons, Carrie was staring at exactly the screen she had been trying to find.

"Thanks, you're a lifesaver," she told the bartender, who grinned and patted her on the back. "I'm Carrie, by the way. And I'll probably have to ask you how to do that again at least once tonight."

"I'm Emily," the bartender replied. "Emily Prentiss. Most people call each other by last names on the Casino floor."

"Good to know," Carrie breathed a sigh of relief having input the drink order. Emily looked at her own screen behind the bar and began making Carrie's drinks.

"So, where are you from? Tennessee or Kentucky?" Emily asked conversationally. Carrie's jaw dropped.

"Tennessee," she replied, then stuttered, "H-how did you know?"

"I'm a Vegas bartender, I've heard every accent in the country. You could consider me a linguist of English dialects." Emily chuckled, placing three drinks on a tray and handing it to Carrie. "You'll do fine, just pay attention and smile a lot." She told Carrie, winking. Carrie thanked her again and picked up the tray of drinks.

Derek Morgan surveyed the casino floor. He'd spotted the kid on one of the security cameras, and was determined never to see him in the casino again. His com earpiece made a static noise, then he heard, "Come in, my chocolate Adonis."

"What you got for me, baby girl?" He replied, grinning. Morgan had been friends with the I.T. girl, Penelope Garcia, since before he'd been promoted to head of security in the casino. She could always make him smile, no matter what kind of mood he was in.

"I got pretty boy on blackjack. Table three. He's still cleaning house down there, as usual." As Penelope spoke, Morgan marched off in the direction of the table she'd specified. Once he was past the slot machines he easily spotted the curly brown head and cocky grin he'd been looking for. Spencer Reid had been a thorn in his side for months, and Morgan was determined to end it now.

He approached the table and was greeted by a worried look from the pretty, blonde dealer. He nodded to her understandingly and placed a hand on Reid's shoulder.

"What are you doing here, kid? I thought our little man-to-man talk finally got through to you last time." Morgan gripped Reid's shoulder hard, a firm reminder of the beating he'd given him about a month prior. Morgan silently wondered if Reid's broken collar bone had healed.

"Aw, Morgan, give a guy a break. You know I couldn't go much longer without seeing JJ's pretty face across the table." Reid winked at the dealer as he spoke, leaning jauntily on the table. Morgan moved his hand from Reid's shoulder to the front of his vest and forcefully pulled him up from the table.

"I'm running out of patience with you, boy. This is the last time I'll tell you to get your skinny, card-counting ass out of my casino." He spoke in a fierce growl, trying not to attract the attention of other casino guests. Reid sighed, collecting his chips.

"Ok, we'll do this your way. How about I go cash in my chips and you act like you never saw me. And I won't bother your pretty blackjack dealers again. Scout's honor." He gave Morgan a sarcastic salute, turning to go. As he turned, his shoulder caught the edge of a serving tray, sending it tumbling to the ground, drinks and all. The waitress looked like she might cry as she dropped to the floor and began picking up the bits of broken glass. Reid was caught off guard by her wavy, beach-blonde hair and innocent glow of her pretty face. Leaning toward Morgan, he muttered, "Your pretty cocktail waitresses are another story." Morgan rolled his eyes.

"Just get the fuck off my casino floor. I'm too busy to beat the shit out of you again tonight." Morgan sighed, rubbing his forehead. Reid simply shrugged and sauntered off as Morgan leaned over to help the waitress.

"You must be the new girl," he grinned. Carrie blushed.

"Gee, how could you tell?" She murmured, piling bits of pilsner glasses onto the tray. Morgan laughed softly.

"Don't worry about it," he assured her. "Happens to everybody." He placed the last bits of glass on the tray and picked it up for her.

"I'm Morgan," he introduced himself, shifting the tray to his left hand and extending his right to shake hers. "Head of security. Anybody gives you a hard time, you can come straight to me. I don't put up with shit in my casino." Carrie shook his hand and smiled at him.

"Thanks," she said, giving him a big, genuine smile. "I'm Carrie." Morgan winked at her, handing the tray back.

"Welcome to Vegas, Carrie," he said warmly. As she walked back to the bar, Morgan noticed Reid there, chatting with Prentiss and sipping a drink, most likely waiting for Carrie. He shook his head, resolving to deal with Reid later, and headed back toward the elevators, checking his watch as he walked. He couldn't be late for his nightly meeting with the casino manager.


	2. Chapter 2

Morgan walked into the conference room to see the manager's assistant sitting at the round table drumming her pristinely manicured nails. She scowled when she saw him, leaning back in her chair.

"You'd better have a bloody good excuse for being late," Bethan Callahan scolded. Morgan looked around at the table, empty but for Callahan.

"Where's the boss?" Morgan asked, walking past the table and towards the manager's office.

"Don't go in there!" Callahan hissed, jumping from her seat. "He's with the Don!" Morgan stepped away from the door and the two of them took their usual seats at the table. They sat in silence, having little to say to each other since Morgan thought Callahan was a conniving bitch, and Callahan was prone to refer to Morgan as all brawn and no brain. After a few minutes the manager's office door opened and the Don strutted out. Dave Rossi had been in control of the family for almost two decades, and he'd shared a friendly and lucrative relationship with Aaron Hotchner, who had managed the Casino Queen for the past fifteen years.

"Don't worry, Hotch," Don Rossi said, placing a hand on Hotch's shoulder as he spoke. "My people will get this worked out. I have eyes and ears all over my casinos. We'll know the minute news breaks."

"Thanks, Dave," Hotch sighed, shaking Don Rossi's hand. "I owe you one. Considering the circumstances of the...incident, I couldn't go to the police." Don Rossi nodded.

"We've always handled this sort of thing in-house, and it's always worked out before. Don't second-guess yourself, Hotch. This ain't our first rodeo." As he spoke, Don Rossi walked past the table without so much as a sideways glance at Morgan and Callahan. When he opened the door his bodyguards appeared, seemingly out of thin air, and escorted him down the hall.

"What was that all about, Hotch?" Morgan asked as Hotch took his seat at the table. Hotch rubbed his eyes.

"Someone's stealing from the casino," Hotch informed him. "We think it's an inside job." Morgan scoffed.

"I'm telling you, that card counting bitch Reid needs to be taken care of!" He leaned forward as he spoke, eyes gleaming with anger.

"No, Morgan. It's not him. We're talking about large amounts missing from cash registers, amounts we're not catching until the end of shifts." Bethan smirked.

"We'll need your security team to be on their toes," she spat at Morgan. Hotch gave her a look, and she sat back in her seat.

"Don Rossi is sending in a couple of people to help keep an ear to the ground." He explained to Morgan.

"Like who?" Morgan asked, interested. Of course the mafia boss wouldn't go to the police, he'd send in his own undercover agents.

"Jason Gideon and Elle Greenaway," Hotch answered.

"You mean Jason Gideon, the private investigator who drinks like a fish and doesn't even show up half the time?" Morgan asked, incredulously. Hotch nodded.

"The man's a bum, but he really is good. If anyone can help us he can. He's been working for Rossi on and off for years." Hotch leaned back as he spoke, allowing Morgan to ruminate on the information for a few seconds.

"Okay boss, so Gideon will be around. We'll help him however we can, but who is this Elle chick?" Callahan began drumming her nails on the table again and yawned. Morgan glared at her.

"She's Rossi's best hired gun. Kind of a loose cannon, but she always gets the job done. She'll be working undercover, so to speak, with our dancers." Morgan nodded as Hotch spoke.

"Well this I can handle," he said. "And I'll let my boys know to be on the lookout for suspicious activities." On second thought he added, "Well, more suspicious than usual."

"I need to make a few phone calls," Hotch said, rising from the table. "That's really all I needed to talk to you about for now. I trust that you'll keep things running smoothly downstairs, as usual." Hotch shook Morgan's hand before going back into his office and closing the door behind him. Callahan got up from her chair and crossed her arms.

"You know, if you weren't so soft on him, he wouldn't come back," she said, narrowing her eyes at Morgan.

"What the hell are you talking about, shrew?" Morgan sighed, getting up from his own chair.

"The Reid boy, you're too easy on him." Callahan tossed her hair, a matter-of-fact smirk on her face.

"Last month, I broke his collar bone. That's too easy on him?" Morgan shook his head, turning away from her and heading for the door.

"You know what the Don will have done to him if he finds out Reid is still hanging around," Callahan sneered. "If you do have a soft spot for the lad you need to keep him out of here. Otherwise it's likely you'll never see him again. In or out of the casino."

Morgan gave her a final glare and slammed the door as he exited.

Lila Archer sat at her vanity table applying fake eyelashes. The show would start in thirty minutes, and she hadn't even set her hair in rollers yet. She had to hurry and get ready or she'd be in big trouble with the boss.

"Hello, gorgeous," a male voice called from behind her. She looked up into the mirror and saw Spencer Reid sneaking into the room, grinning at her.

"Spencer, how many times do I have to tell you not to come back here? If Morgan knew you were here you'd be dead meat, and I could lose my job." Lila scolded, lifting her eyelash curler to her eye.

"It's nice to see you again too, baby," Spencer retorted, placing his hands on her bare shoulders and gently massaging. Lila sighed and turned to face him. Before she could get a word out, he leaned over and pressed his lips to hers, lifting his hands from her shoulders and running them through her hair. She kissed him back, letting her annoyance with him fade to the back of her mind. When he pulled away from her she couldn't supress a smile. He smirked.

"Now that's what I was waiting for," he remarked, taking her chin in his hand and turning her face up towards him.

"I really do have to get ready," she said, turning back to the mirror. "I'm going to be late." Spencer took a seat at the empty vanity next to Lila's.

"The offer still stands, Lila. You and I can get married tonight and leave town, never look back. You won't have to work another day in your life," he told her, leaning forward. Lila laughed and started rolling her hair.

"I'll keep that in mind," she mumbled, trying not to drop the bobby pins she held between her lips. Spencer sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Get out of my seat, queer bait," Jordan Todd called out as she approached the vanity where Spencer sat. Before Spencer could react, Jordan grabbed the back of the seat with both hands and pulled, spilling Spencer into the floor.

"Always a pleasure to see you, Jordan," Spencer drawled sarcastically, standing and brushing off his pants. Jordan made no reply, but sat down at her vanity and started digging through her makeup drawer.

"I'll let you ladies get ready for the show," Spencer conceded, kissing Lila lightly on the forehead. "Don't forget about my standing offer," he added, winking at her. Lila just shook her head and continued rolling her hair. Spencer opened the door, looking both ways down the hall before slipping out of the dressing room and heading back to the casino lobby.


	3. Chapter 3

Will LaMontagne, Jr. sat at the bar nursing a beer and a bruised ego. His notepad lay open on the bar next to him, but the pen behind his ear hadn't been touched for hours. Prentiss studied his expression as she wiped down the bar around his seat.

"What's eating you tonight, Will?" Prentiss asked, taking his now empty glass and refilling it from the tap. Will sighed, rubbing his face with his hand.

"You'd think here in Sin City there would be more interesting things for a hard-nosed investigative journalist to uncover besides sexting in high schools," he said in his rambling Louisiana drawl. Prentiss laughed.

"That's the big story they've had you on?" She shook her head, leaning on the bar.

"When I took the job and moved up here from N'awlins, I figured I'd be digging up dirt on mob ties, or serial killers or something," he punctuated his sentence with a sip of beer. Prentiss laughed, patting his shoulder.

"The mob left Vegas decades ago," she told him. "And as far as serial killers go, no one at this casino has any experience in that area." Will laughed with her.

"Guess I'll just have to uncover the secret high school sexting scandal and be satisfied," he joked. Just then Carrie approached the bar, set down her tray and leaned on an empty chair, heaving a big sigh.

"How's it going out there?" Prentiss asked, taking the empty glasses from Carrie's tray and sliding them into the wash sink.

"Outrageous," Carrie answered, taking the glass of water Prentiss offered and swallowing a big gulp. "I have never seen so many shamelessly drunk people in one room in my entire life." Prentiss and Will laughed.

"Welcome to Vegas, cher," Will chuckled. Carrie smiled at him, handing Prentiss the water glass.

"Carrie, this is Will LaMontagne. He writes investigative stories for the newspaper," Prentiss introduced the two. Will took Carrie's hand gently in his own and lightly kissed the top of it.

"It's nice to meet a fellow Southerner I'll see around here regularly," he told her, sipping his beer.

"That's if I don't get fired on my first night," Carrie sighed again, smothering her face into her palm. "I've already broken a whole tray of glasses and spilled a margarita on a woman in a thousand dollar dress."

"Don't worry," Will assured her, "They're not going to fire a pretty and charming gal like yourself on the first night."

"Besides," Prentiss added. "In my first week here, I managed to smash a four hundred dollar case of top shelf liquor. You'll be fine." The three of them laughed, and Carrie noticed that Will kept stealing glances across the casino floor.

"It's been a great chat with y'all, but I think I'm going to go try my luck with some blackjack," he said, stuffing his notepad into his jacket pocket and sliding out of his seat. Prentiss refilled his beer and he handed her a few folded bills before walking off. Prentiss watched after him with a grin, and Carrie leaned forward conspiratorially.

"What's that look for?" She asked. Prentiss lowered her voice, even though Will was well out of earshot.

"Will has it bad for JJ, the pretty blonde dealer," she said. Carrie looked back and saw Will take a seat at JJ's table. JJ was smiling shyly at him as she dealt the cards.

"Looks like she might feel the same," Carrie grinned.

"One of these days he's going to grow a pair and ask her out," Prentiss sighed, shaking her head and turning to put some clean glasses on the shelf behind her. Carrie saw someone approaching the bar in her peripheral vision and turned just in time to lock eyes with Spencer Reid. She caught her breath and tried to act natural as he approached, grinning at her. He'd introduced himself to her earlier, and she'd immediately lost herself in his deep hazel eyes. He was the most charming man who had ever flirted with her, and she felt glamoured as she met his gaze.

"So, how's your first night treating you?" He asked, taking a seat at the bar and nodding at Prentiss. Carrie willed herself not to stutter as she answered,

"Um, pretty good." She bit her lip, thinking to herself, _Wow, I'm sure he's already dazzled by your incredible conversational skills. _

"This is one of the more friendly casinos in town, I'm sure you'll love it once you get used to the people," Reid assured her, taking a sip of the drink Prentiss had set in front of him. Prentiss snorted.

"You only love it here because Morgan hasn't had you killed for counting cards yet," she rolled her eyes at him, checking her screen and starting to make a drink.

"Hey, I can't help it that I'm a genius," Reid retorted with a cocky, lopsided grin. Carrie smiled at him, and he could see right through to the naive country girl she was inside. Leaning toward her, he spoke in his most charming and seductive tone.

"You know, if you ever wanted someone to show you around town, I'd be happy to," he offered, gently brushing his fingers across her upper arm. He could sense the electric jolt that surged through her at his touch, and grinned. "I've lived here my entire life." Carrie thought better of trying to speak, and nearly nodded, hoping the grin plastered to her face wasn't too stupid looking. Spencer reached over and slowly extracted the pen from Carrie's apron pocket.

"How about you give me your number and I'll call you tomorrow and find out when you're off work?" He slid a clean beverage napkin and the pen down the bar towards Carrie. She obediently scribbled her name and number on the napkin and handed it back to him before returning the pen to her pocket. Spencer gave Carrie his most dazzling smile, and Carrie took a step back, thinking it best to get away before she made an idiot of herself and he decided not to call after all.

"Well, I should go back out and check on my tables," she said, picking up her tray and backing away a little more. Spencer winked at her.

"I'll see you again before the night is over," he promised. Carrie turned on her heels and floated across the casino floor on a cloud of girlish excitement.

"That poor girl has no idea what just hit her," Prentiss grumbled, shaking her head as Carrie walked away. Spencer chuckled.

"That was just too easy," he sighed, sipping his drink. "If I'd wanted to kill her I don't think she would have even put up a fight." He leaned on the bar with a self-satisfied grin. Prentiss gave him a look of disgust.

"Don't fuck around with Carrie," she ordered. "That girl is a sweetheart, you'll break her." Spencer cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows at her.

"You've never lectured me about waitresses before, Em," he sneered. "Are you sure it's not just that you want this particular one for yourself?" Prentiss narrowed her eyes at him.

"You're a dog, Reid," she said, taking his empty glass. He looked at her expectantly, but she didn't offer a refill.

"I see how it's going to be," Reid sighed, standing up from the bar. He dropped a tip in front of Emily and leaned toward her. "I'm Spencer Fucking Reid. I do what I want," he said, giving her his most innocent expression. Her eyes flicked behind him and he turned to see what she had looked at. Carrie stood by a table collecting empty glasses, and she turned her head when Reid caught her looking at him. He grinned smugly at Prentiss, stepping back from the bar.

"...And who I want," he added, winking as he walked away.


	4. Chapter 4

Lila and Jordan lounged in a booth sipping whiskey sours with bored expressions on their gorgeous faces.

"I wish something interesting would happen around here," Jordan mused, playing with her curly hair extensions. Lila sat picking glitter off her arms.

"Seriously, this is like the Chuck-E-Cheese of the Vegas strip," she sipped her drink thoughtfully. "I mean it's good in a way, I feel safer stripping here than I did at the last club, but come the fuck on. This is Vegas. It's supposed to be exciting." She and Jordan shifted in the booth to make room for Morgan, who was approaching.

"Don't look so excited, ladies," he snorted. "The guests might think you enjoy working here." Lila rolled her eyes.

"What time do you get off this morning, Morg?" Jordan asked, leaning toward him and batting her false eyelashes. Morgan shrugged.

"Depends on what the boss wants me to do before I head out. Shit's going down," he answered cryptically. Jordan and Lila perked up.

"What kind of shit?" Lila asked, leaning across the table, eyes wide.

"The kind of shit that could get me fired if I sat around telling it to strippers," Morgan deadpanned. Jordan sat back in the booth, grunting.

"Oh Morgan, I have something for you in my purse," Lila said, reaching into her gold bag. She withdrew her hand, middle finger extended. "Thought you might like this." Morgan chuckled.

"Look, I'm sure you'll all know soon enough. I know how word spreads around here," he said, resting his head in his hand. Suddenly someone across the room caught his attention.

"Spencer Fucking Reid," he sighed, shaking his head as Reid approached, a smug grin on his face. Lila groaned.

"Well look at this, my favorite people, all together," Reid smirked, taking a seat in the booth next to Lila and across from Morgan. Jordan picked up an olive from the plate in front of her and threw it square at Reid's head. Reid caught it in his mouth and chewed, winking at her.

"What the hell do you want, Reid?" Morgan asked, exasperation in his voice.

"I've been hearing whispers on the casino floor," Reid started. Morgan glared at him. "...Where I was NOT playing blackjack," Reid added with a mock-offended expression.

"Whispers about what?" Lila asked, picking at a plate of nachos without eating any. Before Reid could answer, Morgan interrupted.

"We hire an Iron Chef and this is how you respect her cooking?" He took the nachos from in front of Lila and dug into them. As he chewed, Reid turned to Lila.

"Rumor has it someone's stealing from the casino," he lowered his voice conspiratorially. Jordan rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, you are, dumbfuck," she said. Reid shook his head.

"I heard this is an inside job and everyone's a suspect," he said. Lila's eyes widened in sheer excitement.

"Really?" She gasped, leaning against Reid's shoulder. He leaned back and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"I mean, I don't know. It's just hearsay until Morgan here confirms or denies it," they all looked expectantly at Morgan, who looked like he could reach across the table and kill Reid right then and there.

"I'm not going to dignify your bullshit with a response," he said, standing up from the table.

"Are you going to finish those?" Reid asked, pointing to the nachos. Morgan just walked away and Reid pulled the plate toward him and picked up a chip. As he chewed, Lila and Jordan exchanged looks.

"We have to find out what's going on," Jordan gushed, watching Morgan walk toward the elevator. "There's obviously some truth in it. Did you see his face?" Lila nodded vigorously.

"Yes! Let's go work the floor and see what we can find out," she squealed. The girls climbed out of the booth, straightening their mini skirts as they stood up. Taking Jordan's hand excitedly, Lila led the way across the lounge to the elevator, leaving Reid at the table, calmly eating nachos.

Penelope Garcia sat in her usual rolling chair in the security office, facing the wall of screens. There were cameras in every corner of the casino, and Garcia monitored them all, as well as serving as I.T. for the building's computer network. She sat in her chair, spinning in slow circles, sipping coffee through a lime green Crazy Straw. The door opened behind her, and she stopped spinning to see Morgan leading a girl into the office. Garcia stood, offering the girl a winning smile.

"Penelope, this is Carrie, our newest waitress," Morgan said, introducing the two women.

"Penelope Garcia, goddess of technology and general knowledge trivia," Garcia said, "Welcome to the security office. We call it the Bullpen." Carrie looked around, impressed.

"This is pretty intense," she mused.

"Well sweet cheeks, the casino business is an intense industry," Garcia explained. "This state of the art system here, which I have so lovingly programmed myself, is pretty much the best in the business." She beamed at the equipment, and Carrie smiled at her.

"That's awesome, I'm pretty computer illiterate," she laughed. Garcia patted her back.

"It's ok darling, not everyone can be as superbly amazing as myself, but you can always try," she joked. Carrie felt very much at ease.

"I ought to get back downstairs," she told Morgan and Garcia. She added, to Morgan, "Thanks for showing me around."

"No problem," Morgan replied. "I hope you feel more comfortable, knowing your way around the place."

"Absolutely," Carrie assured him. "I'll see y'all later." She gave a friendly wave as she stepped out the door, closing it behind her. Garcia smiled at Morgan.

"She's a sweetheart," she commented, sitting back in her chair. "Do you really think it was a good idea to take a good girl like that and throw her to the wolves?" Morgan stepped behind her and ran his fingers gently through her firey red hair.

"I think she'll be fine," he replied. "We need a nice person around here." Garcia snorted and turned her chair to face him.

"Right, because after a week here she's totally going to still be the sweet, naive girl that walked in here tonight," she said. Morgan cupped her face in his hands and turned it up where he could look in her eyes.

"You're still the sweetheart that walked in here five years ago, baby girl," he told her, leaning over to kiss her softly on the lips. She grinned.

"You like to think so, anyways," she said. Morgan laughed, kissing her again. His phone rang in his pocket, and he took it out without removing his lips from Garcia's until he had brought the phone up to his eye level. Checking the caller I.D. quickly, he flipped the phone open and answered.

"What's going on, Hotch?" He listened for a moment, nodding along with whatever Hotch was saying. Garcia, still sitting, leaned her head against Morgan's abs, and he stroked her hair with his free hand.

"I'll go see to it myself," Morgan told Hotch over the phone, then after a few seconds, "Sure thing, I'll let you know right away." He closed the phone and returned it to his pocket, then took Garcia's face in his hands once more.

"I have to go check on a situation on the floor," he told her, giving her one last kiss. "I'll see you a little later." As he headed for the door, Garcia smiled at him.

"I'll be keeping an eye out," she said, turning back to her many screens.


	5. Chapter 5

After her shift, Jennifer Jareau took a seat at the bar, smiling warmly at Prentiss as she served another guest.

"What'll it be?" Prentiss asked, placing a beverage napkin on the bar in front of JJ.

"Whatever she's having, put it on my tab," Will said, taking the seat beside JJ. She grinned at him, then turned back to Prentiss.

"Captain and Coke," she said. "Thank you," she added, to Will. Prentiss set the drink in front of JJ, and walked to the other end of the bar to give Will some space.

"So," Will started, as JJ sipped her drink. "Do you have any after-work plans?" JJ shook her head, setting her drink back on the bar.

"No, I usually just go straight home," she admitted, blushing. Will smiled and bit his lip.

"Well, would you let me buy you breakfast?" He asked, leaning on the bar.

"That sounds great," JJ answered. Will's smile widened. Prentiss, who was watching from the other end of the bar, grinned at the two of them as they sat chatting over their drinks.

"Well it's about damn time," Reid commented, leaning on the bar in front of Prentiss. He nodded toward Will and JJ. "What's it been, like six months he's had his eye on her?" Prentiss rolled her eyes at Reid.

"Do you like, live here?" She sneered, walking away from him. He leaned forward.

"Look, Em," he started, giving her his 'sensitive guy' pout, which had never worked on her. "I'm sorry about being a douche earlier."

"No you're not," she retorted matter-of-factly.

"Touche," he conceded. "But seriously, we've kept up this charade for at least a year, when are you just going to accept me for who I am?" Emily stopped in her tracks and turned to him.

"Um, when you're no longer a total dick," she snapped. "So in other words, not in your lifetime." Spencer gave her a pained look that was as fake as his earlier apology. Prentiss went back to her work, determined to ignore Reid for the rest of her shift. She waved to JJ and Will as they left, smiling long after they'd gone. Reid ordered a drink and walked off, Prentiss assumed, to find another woman to torment.

"Can I have a shot of Ketel and a glass of tonic?" Prentiss cringed internally at the sound of the snappy British accent.

"How are you tonight, Callahan?" She plastered a smile on her face as she poured the vodka and tonic.

"I'd be doing much better if the employees here were somewhat competent," Callahan deadpanned before quickly swallowing the vodka. She tossed a tip on the counter, stuck a straw in her glass of tonic and stalked off toward the elevator. Prentiss relaxed as soon as Callahan was out of sight, sighing to herself.

Callahan stepped out of the elevator, sipping the tonic water. She cringed at the bitterness, but it soothed her upset stomach, so she continued to sip. Stepping into her office, she set the glass on her desk and started pulling pins out of her perfect french twist, letting her highlighted blonde hair fall down her back. She stepped out of her stilletos and relaxed into her chair, massaging her scalp with her fingertips. The door opened a little, and Hotch popped his head in.

"Are you ok, Beth?" He asked, his face full of concern.

"Simply fantastic, Aaron," she answered sarcastically, closing her eyes as she pulled the knots out of her hair with her fingers. Hotch stepped all the way into the room, closing the door behind him.

"What time is your appointment?" He asked, taking a seat on the edge of her desk.

"Nine-thirty," she answered, looking into his eyes. He checked his watch and frowned. It was only four a.m.

"It seems so much later than it really is," he sighed, rubbing his eyes. Callahan leaned toward him, resting her head on his lap.

"I'm afraid if I go home and go to bed now I won't wake up in time for the appointment," she grumbled. Hotch started gently stroking her head and neck.

"I'll stay with you," he offered. "I think I might know a way to keep you awake until then."

Bethan chuckled and sat upright, grinning at him. Before she could make a witty remark in response, there was a knock at her office door.

"Bloody hell, what is it now?" She groaned, leaning back in her chair. "Don't they know I'm off the clock?" Hotch rose from the desk and opened the door. Morgan stood in the doorway looking serious.

"I was hoping you hadn't left yet," he told Hotch, who motioned him into the office. Hotch sat in the chair across the desk from Callahan, and Morgan stood beside the desk, looking from one to the other.

"I looked into that...situation," he started, giving Hotch a wary look. Hotch nodded.

"Bethan is aware of the situation," he said. "What's going on?"

"I checked the vault, and had Garcia review the security footage for the past four hours. We didn't find anything," he explained. "The only people who accessed the vault tonight were you and Don Rossi." Callahan sighed.

"Then would you explain to us why the silent alarm was activated?" She snapped, massaging her temples.

"I have no idea, but I'm going to stay on it until I find out," Morgan answered. She looked ill, and he didn't want to argue with a sick woman in front of their boss.

"Something's going on around here, and I want to find out what the hell it is so we can nip it in the bud," Hotch stated, firmly. Morgan nodded.

"I'll stay here until Gideon decides to show up," he assured Hotch. "One way or another, we'll get to the bottom of this."

"Good," Hotch sighed. "You can go now, Morgan. We're about to leave, so try to keep things quiet and let me know when you have something important."

"Sure thing, boss," Morgan replied, heading for the door.

"And Morgan," Hotch started. Morgan turned at the door. "I don't want to see Spencer Reid when I get here tomorrow night. He's only making things worse." Morgan frowned.

"I couldn't agree more, Hotch," he said, closing the door behind him.


End file.
